When It's Fair
by Konsui's Little Brother
Summary: Partiallity is not something you would expect from the teachers at Hogwarts but it's there. It's in every class, in every room, and done by every person. It's not fair but...sometimes...it's what makes a student into a good person.


Being a teacher at a school as well known as Hogwarts, there are more then a few things that the proffesors are not supposed to do. They aren't supposed to take points without valid reason. They aren't supposed to argue amongst each other in front of students. They aren't supposed to let the children put each other in danger.

They aren't supposed to show partiality.

Sometimes...That's a little harder then it would seem.

McGonnagle

It wasn't right, and she knew it wasn't. There was no excuse for how she treated him. Or, rather, how she didn't treat him.

Over the years she had spent teaching, hundreds of students had passed through her class. Older boys and younger girls, tall and short, talented and not-that-great with Transfiguration. And McGonnagle had always managed to treat them fairly. Even when they weren't from her house and even when it was the House Cup on the line; because that was what you did as a teacher. You weren't partial.

She didn't know why it changed when Harry started coming. Why her heart softened when she looked at the boy, no longer a babe wrapped in blue, and why she let him get away with things that she shouldn't have. His friends, the youngest Weasely boy and the Granger girl, she let them do things they shouldn't too.

But that was a lie, because she knew that the only reason was because it was _Harry Potter_ and his friends. That was it. There was no other reason.

And then there were other students that she was stricter with.

Neville Longbottom was just one of those students.

For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. Neville wasn't great in her class, true, but he wasn't the worst either. His essays were almost as good as Miss Granger's were, and his wand work much better than Ron's.

But from the first day, there was something about him that was just a little bit off. Something about Neville that was different. It was small and, most days, she just looked over it. Just looked over him, unless it was to scold him for a spell gone wrong or an assignment that was never turned in.

And, other days, she saw it clear as day.

A light there, that not many of her students had. Something that marked him as a true Gryffindor.

It was on those days that she pushed him harder, harder, harder! Keep it going, is what McGonnagle wanted to tell him. And she worked him harder then the others because she knew what that light could turn into; if he just had someone to help guide him there.

The days when it wasn't shining as bright...Those days it was hard for her to even notice his work in the class. Those were the days when it was Harry she saw, Harry and no others.

It wasn't right, and she knew it. There just wasn't anything she could do to change it.

Hooch

From the very first class that Hooch taught him in, it was clear that Neville had no skill when it came to flying. He was a wreck, plain and simple. No if's, and's, or but's. There just was no skill in that boy, none at all.

Hooch couldn't recall teaching anyone with as little talent for flying as Neville Longbottom; and seeing as she'd been teaching at Hogwarts for more than a while, that was saying something.

Above that, there was something about the Gryffindor that just rubbed her the wrong way.

He would fall off his broom, or loose control, or crash, and the rest of the students would laugh at him. Both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors, like he wasn't a part of either house. And, on the days that it didn't knock him out, Neville wouldn't say anything to them. He'd just pick up whatever was left of his broom and shuffle back into line; looking dejected, but mouth staying shut.

And that irked Hooch to no end.

Not only was he not standing up for himself and his abilities, or lack of, but neither was his house! Where was the Gryffindor in him? Where was the roar of the lion and the speed of the falcon? Not anywhere in that boy, that was for sure!

So she took her anger at the other students out on him a bit. It wasn't fair but niether was life. And, sending him up into the air first and having him demonstrate all of the new moves and courses, that was just Hooch's way of trying to help him. Keep him in the air, and all that.

It wasn't that she was trying to embarrass him.

Hooch wasn't trying to openly show her dislike towards him either; because it wasn't dislike towards the boy but dislike towards his attitude.

And she had no inclination to even try and change it.

Snape

Snape had no problem with the rest of the school knowing how much he loathed Neville.

The boy was beyond dreadful at potions. Nearly every class that the Gryffindor boy had ever been in ended up with an explosion of some sorts. Most days, it ended with Neville going to the Hospital Wing.

It was pathetic.

And it only furthered the hate that had been there before he even laid eyes on the boy. The hate that had started brewing in his heart the moment that Dumbledor told him it could have been _him_. That it might not have been Harry who the prophecy spoke of, but of Neville.

That the Dark Lord might have spared Lily, his Lily, if the Longbottoms had appeared to be more of a threat to him.

And it was those thoughts that swam in his mind, furthered by Neville's apparent inability to get _anything_ right, whenever the pudgy Gryffindor entered his class. It was those thoughts that plastered a scowl on his face and brought a drawl to his words; even though it was painfully clear that the young boy was beyond horrified of him.

It didn't matter. Actually, it was part of the problem.

Snape would like at Neville and he would see the small, trembling boy. He would see someone not worthy of having been spared the Dark Lord's wrath, someone that needed more help and guidance then could ever be given to him.

The dissaproving glances that the other proffesors sent him didn't bother Snape in the slightest. It wasn't like they had ever made much effort to try to help the boy. To guide him or stop the rumors and the teasing that were spreading through the castle everyday.

Snape didn't care that he wasn't being fair to the boy. Life wasn't fair and Neville was better off learning that sooner instead of later.

Sprout

Pamona Sprout prided herself on being just as fair as the house she was head of. As a Hufflepuff herself, she prided herself on accepting everyone as they were. Be it brave or weak, smart or a little dense, head-strong or slow to make decisions. She welcomed them all. This was a teaching that she tried hard to show to her students.

If they, as teachers, didn't show them how they should behave then who would? No one, that's who. Many of her students, she knew, had unstable families to go back to. Especially now that Voldemort had risen back to power and people were being carted off and killed left and right.

So she opened her arms and she opened her heart to who ever wanted to talk.

Unsurprisingly, not many students came to spill their secrets to her. Which as all fine and dandy because, though it had been offered, she was terrified that she would be told something she didn't want to hear.

Terrified that one of her students had a secret they weren't telling anyone and that it would, eventually, bring harm to them or to others around them.

So when dear Neville, a student she had always had a soft spot for, came and asked if he could talk to her...Her heart skipped more than one beat.

Neville had always been a quiet boy. Picked on by most of the other kids, often pranked and bemoaned at by the teachers, but he had a penchant for Herbology that would make in gardener jealous.

Green thumb and gold heart, she would think to herself, that one has.

And it was true because she didn't think she'd ever met a more forgiving student than he was; you could call him an idiot and, moments later, he would give you help with whatever you asked of it.

Most of the other teachers thought he should have been in Hufflepuff. While Sprout would have loved to be able to say someone as amazing at Herbology as Neville was, as kind and caring and forgiving as he was, was in her house that was something that was just unbelievably Gryffindor about him.

And it wasn't a secret he had for her, but the simple question as to whether he could use the greenhouses during free-periods.

She said yes.

And, was it really her fault, if she gave him a bit more favor than she gave the other Gryffindors?

She didn't think it was.

Dumbledore

As headmaster of Hogwarts, more than anyone, Albus Dumbledore was supposed to show no partiality. He was supposed to be fair to all students and treat them all equally. Favor no one and give them all the benifit of the doubt.

When it came to Harry Potter, and those that were willing to risk their lives for him, favor was given in heaps. And, while he felt slightly bad for it, Dumbledore saw no need to stop. A child that had been put down and torn into so often, kept from the wizarding world for so many years...He deserved a little special treatment now that he was where he was loved. And why should the people that worked to keep him safe not get the same treatment?

It was just by a fluke that he started to turn a blind eye on his other students.

Oh, Dumbledore didn't ignore them. No, that was impossible to do. There were over a thousand children, of all ages, in Hogwarts. One would have to be deaf, blind, and numb not to know they were there and to not pay them any attention.

But they were little concern to him compared to Harry.

Now, on the dawn of Harry's sixteenth year, he wished that he'd spent a little more time with the rest of his students.

Because, while Harry was still in mourning over his god-fathers death, there were others still practicing the spells that had been taught to them the previous year.

Now he could see that there were other students that deserved the attention perhaps more than Harry had. Students that needed reassurance, needed guidance, needed help. They had to work alone on their fears (fears that shouldn't have been there, because no child should have been afraid of a teacher).

Was it wrong that, when he knew that and that it was going on, that he still did nothing to change?

Dumbledore hoped it wasn't.

He didn't think that he'd be able to.

Amycus & Alecto Carrow

It cannot be said that either of the Carrows were fair. They didn't care about being fair. They were death eaters and things like equality and fairness...It didn't matter to them. In all fairness, they thought that the idea of being fair to people they didn't like, people they hated, was a ridiculous idea.

They liked the Slytherins students well enough, but only because many of their parents ran in the same circle that they did. If everyone else was thrown into the lake, well, it would make a hell of a lot less work for them.

Above everyone in the school though, teachers included, it was the Gryffindors that they hated the most.

Those sniveling little brats, doing everything they could to prove that _they_ were the right ones and that the Dark Lord's vision was _wrong_! It made their blood boil to even think about it!

So, of course, they did all that they could to make the Gryfifndors lives miserable. Even more so when kids from that house, and the _knew_ it was that house, started up the rebellion they'd formed several years ago.

Dumbledore's Army.

In the beginning, the students fell back. Even with their little group running about, they didn't want to get hurt. And hurt is what they would get if they put so much as one foot out of line.

And the students, those idiotic children, they believed that the Weasely girl was the one leading them. Alecto was smarter then them, though. She could tell that it was another one. The one that always refused to do what they said; that dared defy them and to besmirch the Carrow name!

Neville Longbottom didn't seem like he would be much of a problem but, if it wasn't for him, Alecto and Amycus knew that they would have no problems crushing the students.

If it wasn't for the boy that stood up to them, stood up to Snape, and stood up for the fellow students...

No. Alecto and Amycus don't believe in being fair.

McGonnagle

It was all over.

Harry Potter was _dead_. Voldemort had won. And they were all going to die there; murdered in front of the school that she had tried so hard to protect.

McGonnagle closed her eyes, waiting behind the barrier set up around them for Voldemort to kill them off as he saw fit. She had failed. Both her students and her fellow teachers; they had all been let down. She had led them into the battle and then she let them fall.

There was a shout from a few feet away from her and, when she opened her eyes, she saw someone pushing out of the crowd. Out of the barrier. Stopping right at the feet of Voldemort himself.

And Neville Longbottom, the child that McGonnagle had once saw a light in but had never thought anyone would really help it burst to flame, looked straight into those cold eyes and said words no one had dared to utter in a long time:

"I'll join you when Hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army!"

And McGonnagle felt hope soar.


End file.
